


Safety In Glasses

by ibelieveinturtles



Series: Darcyverse [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Brock Rumlow Bingo Card 2020, Darcy Lewis Bingo 2020, Darcy Lewis is a Gorgon, Darcylvania, F/M, Gorgons (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Monsters, Pre-Relationship, The Darcyverse, triple!agent Brock Rumlow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:56:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27115736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibelieveinturtles/pseuds/ibelieveinturtles
Summary: Darcy has decided to join S.H.I.E.L.D. - partly for the free education, partly for the easy access to her file, partly because sometimes the best place to hide is with the people who might be looking for you. Then Hydra rears its ugly head(s). At least she's getting a new statue out of it.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis & Brock Rumlow, Darcy Lewis & Sam Wilson, Darcy Lewis/Brock Rumlow
Series: Darcyverse [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1730857
Comments: 38
Kudos: 174
Collections: Darcy Lewis Bingo, The Monster Mash





	Safety In Glasses

**Author's Note:**

> Written for The Darcyverse Discord Darcylvania Event.  
> Week 3 Mythological Monsters
> 
> Collaborator(s): ibelieveinturtles  
> Square (letter, number, and prompt): Darcy Lewis Bingo, D4 Immortality  
> Brock Rumlow Bingo Card, B4 Jack booted thug  
> Pairing/Main Ship: pre-Darcy/Brock if you squint  
> Rating: T for language  
> Warnings/Triggers: main character death

Safety In Glasses

* * *

Darcy loves modern technology. Glasses. Contact lenses. Mirrored sunglasses. It means she can move incognito through the teeming masses of humanity; rub shoulders with mortals who have no idea that legends are real; hide herself in plain sight.

Right now, however, she's got a feeling that it's time to shed her protective measures.

She's at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters in DC to negotiate a new employment contract. After following Jane around for the last three years, Darcy has decided it's time to take advantage of what the new world has to offer.

Which is free education and the chance to control what ends up in her file. 

The public address system whines to life less than a minute after she signs the contract. She and the HR assistant manager stare at each other as Captain America reveals the hidden presence of Hydra, finishing up with a go get 'em motivational speech. While most people wouldn't consider Darcy one of the good guys, she is in no way interested in a world run by the bad guys. She watches the assistant manager carefully, one hand resting idly on her glasses as she wonders what side the other woman is on.

The wrong side, it turns out. The only mistake she makes is to keep eye contact.

With a flick of her finger, Darcy slides her glasses down her nose, catching the Hydra HR lady in the act of whipping a sidearm out. She turns to stone and Darcy replaces her glasses.

Standing up, she approaches the door, opens it a crack, and peers out into the corridor.

She hears gunfire echoing through the building and sighs. There's no way she's getting out of this easily. So, she can either wait it out, or go on the offensive. The only problem she can see is how to tell who is a friend and who is better off as a statue.

Well, that's a problem for later.

An armed man rounds the corner, rifle up. 

"Hail Hydra!" he barks out, and Darcy doesn't hesitate. 

Off come the glasses, and seconds later there's another statue.

She slips her glasses back on and hurries down the hall, heading for the stairwell. She hears more people ahead of her, and her hand comes up to her glasses as she reaches the corner. Two more armed men appear, watching her warily.

She backs up a little, moving both hands into the surrender position. If these guys are Hydra, surely they'd have let her know by now… 

"What the hell-" one of them has spotted the statue.

"I found him like that," Darcy babbles, inserting a thread of fear into her voice. "I don't know what happened."

The two men exchange glances and Darcy finds herself with a face full of rifles.

"I'm just here to sign up for the post-grad programme," she says, hoping she sounds sufficiently terrified.

"Lock yourself in there," the first guy says, indicating an office door with his gun, "and don't come out until it's safe."

"How will I know when it's safe?" she asks, shuffling sideways towards the door.

"Whoever opens the door won't try to kill you," the other one says, and they advance up the corridor.

As soon as they disappear around the next corner, Darcy dashes towards the stairs. Fuck hiding, she just wants out of here.

Peering through the tiny window in the stairwell door she sees yet more jack-booted thugs headed her way. There's a group headed up and a group headed down. The group heading up starts firing first so at least she knows who deserves to be statues. Sliding her glasses off, she pushes through the door. As one, the surviving thugs look up and one by one, they each look her in the eye and all turn to stone.

It's a little tricky getting past them but she manages it, continuing down the stairs. 

She encounters two more packs of thugs on her way, turning all of them to stone. She's decided it's probably safer to just petrify everyone she comes across - once this is all over, there's sure to be someone left who can figure out if any of them need unpetrifying, right?

She finally reaches the bottom of the stairwell and is peering through the window when she hears movement behind her. She's too slow, and before she can turn, there's a gun at the back of her head.

"And just who are you then?" a voice asks.

"D-D-Darcy L-Lewis." She manages the perfect amount of terrified stutter. "G-G-Grad student programme."

"Yeah? That's interesting. How does D-D-Darcy L-Lewis, G-G-Grad student programme manage to turn a dozen of my best STRIKE members to stone just by looking at them, eh?"

"That wasn't me," Darcy squeaks, "they were like that already." She shifts her focus, trying to see the reflection of her captor in the window.

"Bullshit," he says. "I saw everything through the second floor window. How. Did. You. Do. It?"

Darcy sighs. 

"I'm sorry, who are you?" she asks, trying to sound as bored as she can.

"Brock Rumlow," he says, "Commander of STRIKE team Alpha."

"Ooh, does that make you the head jack-booted thug?"

"Look, I'm asking the questions here, Darcy. Now-  _ who _ are you?" The barrel of the gun presses harder against her head. Getting shot won't kill her permanently but it's an inconvenience she can do without. Well, if she's going to petrify him anyway, it can't hurt to tell him the truth. Can it?

"I'm a gorgon," she says.

"A what?"

"A gorgon. You know. Like Medusa."

"A gorgon, huh." Fingers wrap into her hair, tugging firmly, and she feels warm breath on her cheek. "Thought gorgons had snakes instead of hair?"

"Ow! C'mon dude, easy. It's an illusion, okay? Magic. I can take it off if you want?"

There's a loaded silence behind her and she feels him ease back. "Alright, but do it slowly."

The gun disappears and Darcy carefully lifts her hands to her head, easing her fingers into her hair and releasing the magic that hides its true nature.

"Holy fuck," Rumlow says. "Well, this changes things, doesn't it."

"Um, how?" She's waiting for the moment his attention wavers so she can turn around and petrify him but he's ridiculously calm and controlled.

"Because you," he says, voice low and rough, "are gonna help me finish this." 

There's a rustling behind her and a piece of cloth is shoved roughly over her shoulder. "Put this on," he said.

"What is it?"

"A blindfold. I don't wanna end up like the rest of my team now, do I?"

"And squish my hair? Do you want me to get bitten? Do  _ you _ want to get bitten? How about I just put my glasses back on?" she suggests. "They have a special coating so I don't petrify everyone I look at."

"Okay. Glasses will do. Then put your hands behind your back."

She does as she's told, not surprised when she feels the cold metal handcuffs snap around her wrists.

"Ooh, kinky," she jokes. 

"You think so? Alright, turn around slowly."

She obediently turns around, slightly pleased to see that he's avoiding looking directly at her eyes even though she told him about her glasses. He's smarter than he looks. And, she thinks, he looks good. Maybe she can find a special place for him when all this is over. Her garden could use a new ornament. Or maybe she could keep him somewhere else - like her bedroom - and he can wear the blindfold.

"So, what now?" she asks, resigned to her fate for the moment.

He grabs her elbow, hustling her back up the stairs.

"We're gonna join Pierce and the Security Council in the conference room upstairs."

"Alexander Pierce?" Darcy asks, simultaneously fishing for information and attempting to distract Rumlow. "What's he got to do with this?"

"He's the big boss," Rumlow says. "This is all his doing."

"Okay, and then what?"

"And then we'll put that petrifying gaze of yours to good use," Rumlow says.

"Hey, I only use it for self defence!" she protests. "I don't turn people to stone for fun, you know. I mean, unless they want me too."

"Well, I wouldn't know about that, would I?" he replies. "Now shut up and keep moving."

"Hmph," Darcy replies, but complies with his demands. It means she can concentrate on a plan to get out of this situation.

Somehow, she needs to lose her glasses, get him to look at her properly, and then free herself from the handcuffs. 

Easy peasy.

Except the opportunity doesn't come. This guy is hyper vigilant - he guides her so very carefully past her previous victims, never looks her directly in the eye, and keeps hold of her arm or elbow at all times. 

They climb quickly, floor by floor by floor. Every now and then he speaks into his comms, responding to whatever's going on elsewhere.

Darcy's reluctantly developed respect for this dude - he doesn't have the advantages of immortal strength like she does and yet he isn't even puffing. Getting away from him could be harder than she thinks.

"I'm in the southwest stairwell," she hears him say, "forty first floor. I'll be there in two minutes."

They pause at the exit of the stairwell.

"Can you put that illusion back on your hair?" he asks.

"Of course," she says. "Any chance we could take the handcuffs off though?"

"No," he says firmly, and she sighs. Loudly.

"You're so difficult," she complains, but gathers the magic and reapplies her disguise. While she's got the magic, she directs a tendril down to the handcuffs, adjusting the mechanism so that a simple tug will break them. She should have thought of that sooner. "How's that?"

"Useful," he says. "Can you do that to other people?"

"I never tried," she says. It's an interesting thought; one that she'll have to experiment with later. "So, what now?"

"Don't you worry your pretty head about that," he says. "Come on."

He opens the door and pushes her through. A man is standing behind the door, one finger to his lips. She keeps moving and as soon as Rumlow clears the doorway, the new guy leaps at him.

It's the opportunity she's been waiting for. 

The handcuffs break, she pulls her glasses off, and as Rumlow staggers back from the new guys attack, she grabs him by the arm and flings him back into the stairwell.

"Hold these," she snaps at New Guy, tossing her glasses his way before following Rumlow, "and don't look into my eyes." 

"You don't know what you're messing with!" Rumlow snarls, climbing back to his feet. "This isn't what you think it is." He rushes towards her, head down, and she throws herself at him, pushing him back into the corner as she seizes his face in her hands and forces him to look at her.

"I think you wanted to use me," she retorts, and stares straight into his beautiful eyes. 

It's a shame she has to turn eyes that pretty to stone.

"Man, what the hell?" New Guy exclaims from behind her as Rumlow petrifies. And then, "She's what?"

The sound of tearing concrete grabs their attention - behind them, a helicarrier is crashing into the building.

"Move!" New Guy yells, diving into the stairwell.

"My glasses!" Darcy frantically reaches a hand toward him.

"No time," New Guy snaps, grabbing her arm and pulling her after him down the stairs. Above them, glass and concrete shatter, steel screams, and the building collapses around them.

Darcy's last thought before falling into darkness is  _ don't open your eyes when you wake up _ .

* * *

Darcy swims slowly back to consciousness. The concrete is hard under her body, the sharp angle of a step digs into her back, and she can hear sirens screaming in the distance. A faint waft of smoke nudges at her nostrils and somewhere close-by she hears the creak of the wrecked building as someone tries to raise someone else on their comms.

"Hey, this is Wilson, is anyone there? Do you copy, over."

She runs through an assessment of her body. Something heavy lies across her legs and her shoulder aches but otherwise she thinks she's okay. Opening her eyes the tiniest sliver, she checks to see if this Wilson guy is in her immediate field of view, and if he is, can she figure out which side he's on by boots alone. 

"I repeat, this is Wilson. Do you read, Cap? Hill? Anybody?"

Well. That answers  _ that _ question. 

"Jesus, man. You had me worried there. Yeah, I'm fine. Coupla bruises but nothing to worry about."

Darcy stays still and silent, waiting. She's not sure what she's waiting for, but she'll figure it out soon enough.

"Yeah, she's here. Still out to it and trapped under a beam, but I think she's okay. Hang on."

Heavy footsteps climb towards her, and fabric rustles as Wilson bends or kneels beside her. She's not sure because she's closed her eyes again. A warm, gentle hand settles on her shoulder.

"Hey, you awake?" he asks, then into his comms, "What's her name? Hey, Lewis. Can you hear me?"

She decides it's time to stop playing possum.

"Yeah, I'm awake," she says, lifting a hand to wave hello.

"How do you feel?"

"Apart from whatever's got my legs pinned down? Pretty good."

"Alright then. Gimme a minute and I'll see if I can get you out from under that thing," he says.

The hand leaves her shoulder, he talks into his comms for a minute, then he's back. 

"Can you sit up?" he asks.

"Probably," she says. "Hey, um. Are you the guy that helped me out back there?" she asks.

"Yeah, that's me. Sam Wilson at your service."

"Cool. Do you still have my glasses? Because this will be a lot easier if I can safely open my eyes."

"I got 'em right here," he says. "Gimme your hand."

She holds her hand out and a moment later feels cool plastic settle into her palm.

She almost weeps with relief as she slides them on and opens her eyes. Wilson kneels in front of her.

"Hey," he says, smiling but not meeting her eyes.

"Hey," she replies. "Thanks, dude."

Lifting herself up on her elbows, she peers down at the steel beam lying across her legs. Wilson follows her gaze.

"I dunno if I'll be able to lift that," he admits. "We might have to wait for search and rescue."

"It's okay," she says, "I can manage. Help me up."

His mouth twists with doubt as he helps her into a sitting position. Leaning forward, she doesn't hesitate, taking hold of the beam and lifting it off and away from her legs. She drops it to the side and climbs to her feet, dusting her hands on her thighs, grateful she wore pants today.

"You really are…" Wilson pauses, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.

"A gorgon? Yes. Yes, I am." She casts him a sideways glance before turning her attention to the stairwell and finding a way out. And to see if Rumlow survived the disaster. She really did want him for her rose garden. 

"Help is on it's way," Wilson says. "We just need to sit tight."

Darcy turns to look at him. "Does that mean we won?" she asks.

Wilson nods, then sags against the wall. "Man, I did not realise what I was signing up for."

"Did any of us?" Darcy asks, scanning the damaged stairwell for stray statues. Which reminds her… she steps over to the railing and peers down. It's too dark for a mortal to see much but Darcy's not mortal. As far as she can see, most of the statues from her first journey downwards are still there.

She looks up. In spite of the increasing smoke, there's more light entering the stairwell than normal. Most of the stairs are still intact and she starts climbing.

"Hey, where are you going?" Wilson calls after her.

"Looking for my statue," she says.

"Your statue?" There's a beat of silence, and she lets him finish his thought process. "Wait, are you talking about that Hydra asshole?"

"Ahuh. He's gonna look so good in my rose garden."

"Man, what the hell  _ did _ I sign up for?" Wilson mutters.

Darcy tries not to giggle.

She's almost gained the forty first level. Blue- no, smoke-filled sky is visible through the huge hole in the side of the building but the landing is mostly undamaged. When she spots Rumlow still standing in the corner she petrified him in, she lets out an excited squeal. He survived!

"I found him!" she sings out, skipping up the last few stairs and going over to inspect him. Hmm, the angle of his arms is good - all those muscles shown off to perfection - even if he was leaning a bit. Well, she'd just have to put some stakes in to keep him upright. It was a shame about the expression on his face but- "Oh no, he lost an ear!"

* * *

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I've gone for a protective depiction of a gorgon, I think? I used [ this page](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gorgon) as my main reference and as usual, have twisted the mythology for my own purposes.
> 
> You can find my My Tumblr at [ibelieveinturtles](http://ibelieveinturtles.tumblr.com/)  
> Also, if you're reading this as a guest and would like an account, I have invites.


End file.
